I knew I was attractive to gay guys
by watch.over.your.ass.butt
Summary: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 5B (Animal Clinic fight - alternate aftermath) Basically what should've happened because I'm Sterek trash and these guys together make me want to scream like Lydia when someone dies.


**What should've happened after Stiles and Scott fought outside the animal clinic.**

 **SPOILER FOR SEASON 5B**

* * *

Pale hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, clenching and unclenching as four ruddy tyres beat down the road ahead. The blue jeep was running on fumes, as expressed greatly when the car started filling up with smoke. It skid to a halt, the teenager inside coughing and hacking as he tried to undo the door handle so he could get out into the fresh air.

Stiles held an arm over his mouth as he swung the door closed, the force of the throw making the door bounce back slightly. He stomped his way to the boot and pulled out a black box, before opening it to reveal a set of wrenches… the one missing being in the front seat. Stiles threw the box down the road, yelling profanities as he opened the front passenger door and pulled out the other wrench, the wrench he used to whack Donavon over the head. The one he had used for _self-defence_ purposes, since Donovan was going to kill him by ripping his legs off and leaving him bloodied in the library. He had tried getting through to Scott, but he wouldn't listen, and now Stiles was wondering if he should whack himself over the head with a wrench and call 911 on his phone. Then again he'd probably wouldn't die before the ambulance got here… Maybe then Scott would actually be worried about him for once.

At first he debated throwing the wrench after the others, but he turned to his jeep and threw it at the windshield, yelling as loudly as he could. The smash wasn't extremely loud, but one werewolf heard it from his loft.

And he could smell the anger and sadness emitting from the teen.

* * *

By the time Derek got there, Stiles was sitting on the ground, back against the jeep and his head in his hands. He was asking himself if he should try to console the distressed teenager, but he couldn't console anyone, even if the step-by-step instructions karate-kicked him in the face. He felt a bit useless seeing Stiles moping in the middle of the road, and he wasn't sure why.

"Go away," a muffled voice spoke as a damp sleeve came up to clumsily wipe tears dripping from two brown eyes. Stiles had his knees huddled up to his chest, and his phone was buzzing on the concrete beside him. The name 'Malia' donned the screen as the sharp glow pierced through the darkness like a knife. Derek sighed before walking to sit by Stiles, one thing he'd thought he would never do. With one shrug, Derek's Henley was off, and he draped it around Stiles' shoulders… moments later it was being shoved back into Derek's hands.

"I don't deserve it… des'rve to freeze," Stiles mumbled as he gazed sadly as the garden across the street. His car had broken down three blocks from his house, and it was a full half-hour to the Sheriff's station. Dereks thick eyebrows furrowed deeply, disagreeing with him.

"Nobody deserves to freeze, Stiles," Derek tried. The teenager wasn't having any of it.

"I do, I killed Donovan… Scott hates me. I'm a bad person Derek and bad people don't deserve good things. I've become what my father arrests every so often. I'm a murderer," He stuttered, not caring that he was literally sobbing in front of Mr Sourwolf. Derek was shocked. Stiles would never murder anyone. Sure he was a hyperactive spaz with trust issues, but he wouldn't _murder_ anyone. Unless this is what Scott had drilled into his head.

"Stiles, What happened?" Derek inquired, again wrapping the jacket around Stiles' shoulders. He was satisfied when there was no move to take off the thick material. The younger man's head started to shake as he closed his eyes, attempting to hold back the tears that were already forming. This was a little bit idiotic because his cheeks were already tear-stained.

"Scott and I had a fight… He can't trust me 'nymore, doesn't want me in his pack," Stiles explained, finally warming up to the heat radiating from the jacket. Derek was plotting several ways to murder Scott, how in the name of fuck could he have hurt his friend this much?

"Donavon tried to kill me, I hit him over the head with the wrench," He continued, pointing to the blood-stained wrench that laid on the road, "followed me up the scaffolding… pulled the pin and one of the beams impaled him… It was an accident, please don't, please don't hate me," Stiles uttered as his hands began to shake at an even greater speed. He was close to hyperventilating and Derek really couldn't cope with a panic attack. He simply didn't know how to calm him down.

"Hey, shhh, it's alright," Derek tried, running a hand through Stiles' hair. It seemed to work as the heavy breathing soon turned soft and slow. Stiles' phone buzzed to life again, and a pale hand picked it up and swiped from the left side of the screen to the right, declining the call.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah Derek?" Stiles asked.

"Why haven't you been taking your Adderall?" Was the question asked. Stiles tensed and then untensed at the tone of Derek's voice. Stiles couldn't lie and said he had been taking them, or even that he hadn't took them within a few days, as the smell of medication would still be evident after a while.

"I guess I've been busy…" He trailed off, his voice quieting down.

"Yeah, Busy constantly saving Scott's ass! You shouldn't always have to be there for him Stiles, you need time for things like food, medication, healing! He can't just expect you to be at his beck-and-call twenty four seven."

"Derek… I honestly don't mind. It was always about Scott anyways… My dad wishes he had him as a son instead of me, he was the one who managed to get captain of the lacrosse team, he's the one who has dated multiple girls and actually maintained a relationship! I'm just the Robin to his Batman. I'm the one who stays in the back and doesn't get noticed. I'm the one that girls run their eyes over and shake their heads at because I'm not good enough. It's always been about Scott McCall," Stiles spoke softly, looking up at the stars. Derek couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Stiles, you're an amazing son, you help your dad out with things he isn't sure about and you monitor his health, no matter how much it deteriorates your own. In my opinion, Scott wouldn't even be on the team if it wasn't for his abilities, but you're human and you're on front line! Erica kept ranting about how you were the batman to her Catwoman, and you sure as hell don't stand in the background when something goes wrong. You fight as much as possible and it gets you hurt, but you heal, and you fight again. You'll do anything to help the people you love, yet you won't help yourself," Derek replied.

"That's because I don't love myself, Derek…"

Screw it.

"Well I love you… ever since you were idiotic enough to trespass when looking for an inhaler for your unworthy best friend, I've just… you're all that I can really think about. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that reason. Now, I can call a tow truck to come and collect your car… I'm taking you home, you're taking a dosage of Adderall, and we're going to sit all night and watch every single Star wars movie," Derek ranted as he helped Stiles up and into the Camaro.

"You… Love me?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah…" Derek trailed off, unsure of Stiles' reaction. Stiles leaned over slightly, face inches away from Derek's.

"I knew I was attractive to gay guys," He smirked before softly joining both their lips together.


End file.
